Page 41 of Boss Unavowed (Boss 2)

She had expected to leave on a 2007 Harley that night, but Sebastian Stone had come along with his tatted up biceps bulging out of his skin-tight, white tee-shirt and his wallet bulging out from the back pocket of his well-worn, dark-washed jeans.

Arrogant prick.

She walked into the Lounge once they arrived and went straight to work stocking the bar, helping Mindy, her bartender, fill drinks, and clearing off used glasses.

When the rus

h died down and her staff looked like they had it handled, she went back to her office in the back and breathed a disappointed sigh as she sat with her hands to her temples.

A soft voice coming from her opened, office door startled her. “There will be other bikes,” Leo said, trying to soothe her.

She shook her head. “This one was different.”

He leaned against the door frame and crossed his thick, muscular arms across his wide expanse of chest.

“The one he was driving is long gone, Elaina. You’ve got to give up this morbid obsession. It’s fucking with you. I don’t like seeing you like this. It’s got to stop.”

She looked up at her teddy-bear of a bouncer, shocked by the tone he was taking with her. No one spoke to her like that, and he wasn’t going to start now.

“I’m sorry, I don’t recall asking for your input, Leo.”

His hands went up in surrender. “I’m sorry. I’m just worried about you. I don’t like seeing you like this,” he admitted.

Her anger deflated and the fight went out of her. “Don’t worry about me. I’m a big girl. I can handle my own.” She smiled and Leo laughed.

“Actually, you’re a tiny little woman, but you’re the last person I’d ever want to piss off,” he joked.

She nodded, chuckling in agreement. “All right, get back to work. I don’t pay you to stand around chit-chatting.”

He tapped the side of the door frame before he disappeared down the hall toward the floor.

She was just about to pull out some invoices and work on new inventory plans when she heard a crash resounding down the hallway. Shouting and yelling broke out, and she sprang from her chair to see what the hell was going on.

TWO

Sebastian slid off the side of the Harley, his boots pounding heavily onto the smooth concrete of the parking lot that was whirring and bustling with activity.

Elaina’s Lounge was always a busy hub, especially after the sun went down, and it was a place he’d been known to stop in from time to time, mostly to follow a lead.

Many of the regular patrons of Elaina’s were the classy, high-rolling criminals who could afford to keep people quiet, and most were smart enough to fly beneath the radar. A man doesn’t run a successful, highly profitable, underground business on luck. It takes brains and muscle.

These were two things Sebastian Stone had in spades, but he had chosen a different side of the law to play in. Maybe it was a bit of a gray area on most accounts, but flying under the radar was beneficial, if not crucial, to his line of work as well.

He lifted a chin to the bouncer, a surly guy with a goatee, as he passed him walking in the door. He scanned the room to survey his surroundings, a practiced and automatic action, getting a feel of the crowd. Then his eyes went in search of her.

He’d seen the feisty little blond trying to outbid him, how she had looked at him with a venomous, warning glare. He’d known exactly who she was the moment he’d laid eyes on her. Hell, everyone on this side of Houston knew who Elaina Evans was, and Sebastian, like every other hot-blooded man with a pulse, wouldn’t have minded getting to know her a little better.

She was a classy woman, but a tough one. She had no problem running a place like hers, keeping the staff and the burly customers in line alike. She was used to giving orders and people following them.

Being a successful business owner made a woman enticing and intimidating all in the same pass. Most men didn’t know what to do with a head-strong, take-charge woman, though there probably wasn’t a man around who would admit to that. Men liked to feel needed, and a woman like that didn’t need anyone. It could emasculate even the most macho of men, and those were the type of men who especially didn’t like to feel emasculated.

One thing men did like, though – a challenge. She was a challenge, all right, and for Sebastian that could be said in more ways than one. He’d been working on a case that had led right here to her front door recently, and he wasn’t sure if she was an innocent bystander or an accomplice.

When his eyes made a full circle around the room from a table against the wall he had occupied, and still no sign of her, he decided to wander over and pull up a stool at the bar. He didn’t like sitting at the bar with his back to the room, but he could wait it out and keep his ears open, listening for any conversations going on around him that might indicate where the little spit-fire might be.

“Roy Rogers, tall,” he ordered once he took a seat.

The bartender acknowledged him, but before she could turn to pour his mocktail, he noticed her eyes dart up and over him toward the front door. He recognized the look of fear, then disgust, flash across her face before she looked back at him and plastered on a smile as she hurriedly moved to make his order.

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